Young Teacher, The Subject
by Frequent and Vigorous
Summary: Will struggles with his confusing desire for Kurt, and on his trip to Dalton he crosses a line. Fairly AU, and essentially PWP. Will/Kurt, possibly dub-con due to consent issues.


Summary: Will takes a trip to Dalton and crosses a line. Fairly AU.  
Pairing(s): Will/Kurt, brief allusions to Kurt/Blaine

**SPOILERS**: Assumes you've watched up to 2x10, "A Very Glee Christmas"  
**WARNINGS**: Pretty explicit slash, and I guess this is technically dub-con because it involves someone of age and a minor. If either of these bothers you, you'll be better off elsewhere.

Disclaimer: Glee is definitely not my property - look to FOX and Ryan Murphy.

Notes: This isn't really my first fic, but it's my first after a few-year break from fandom, so I apologize if my writing is rusty. It _is_ my first slash/porn fic, so if something is hilariously wrong or awkward feel free to correct me - and I welcome any other criticism or comments you want to throw at me. Happy reading!

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_**Young Teacher, The Subject**_

If you asked Will Schuester what made him proud of himself at the end of the day, he would tell you it was his devotion to his students. When he was surrounded by tyrants like Sue Sylvester, who cared about her Cheerios but would never say it outright, or deadbeats like Bill Sommers of the history department who went out of his way to avoid interacting with teenagers, he couldn't help but pat himself on the back for giving the kids of McKinley an attentive ear and positive adult influence. He loved teaching, he loved these kids, and he wanted to help them out in a difficult – God, he knew how difficult – stage of their lives.

Which was why he was unnerved by what was happening to him around Kurt Hummel. He'd first noticed it when he was interrogating the kids about that Glist. While the other members had passed the buck and got indignant in their denials, Kurt had surprised him. Admittedly, Will had lost it a bit at that point, unleashing his best (and decidedly poor) inner Jack McCoy, but Kurt had been unfazed. The memory of the younger man's gracefully raised eyebrows, his tolerant and almost-patronizing smile, and the smoothness of his voice when asked, "May I be frank?" – Will found himself both unwilling to dwell on it too long yet strangely unable to put it out of his mind.

Will told himself he had been – still was – struck by Kurt's undeniable brightness. Will didn't have him in Spanish, but he had heard Kurt in his French class shortly before breaking the news about his dad's heart attack, and the almost bored tone of Kurt's voice as he poured out a stream of flawless French had stayed with him. He was always articulate, far surpassing the vast majority of his peers, and had a barbed wit that scorned the "your mom" brand of humor popular among his classmates. He was ambitious sometimes to the point of being cruel. Most of all, he was aware of who he was in a way that even some of Will's colleagues weren't.

Yes, he was impressed. And that should have been it. But admiring a student and rooting for him to succeed didn't account for…other things.

Like his reaction to Kurt's outfits. Okay, Will knew that it was part of who Kurt was – theatrical – and therefore part of him being unapologetically out of the closet. But did his pants have to be so…tight? They clung to his body in a way that made it practically impossible for Will _not_ to watch him as he moved, showed the shifting of the muscles in his legs – thighs – higher…. No. Will cut off his train of thought right there. The point was that it was kind of distracting, in a way that the Cheerios' uniforms and Mercedes' bold clothes weren't. Not that he would ever say anything; he had seen how devastated Tina had been when her means of expression had been taken away from her. Why would he even hint at the same for Kurt?

And there was Kurt's voice. When he had been a freshman, Bryan Ryan's voice had had a similar effect on Will – the temporary loss of breath, the sudden desire to close his eyes. But the thing with Bryan Ryan had been hero worship, admiration from a point lower on the ladder. As Kurt's teacher, and a fairly experienced singer and performer himself (if Acafellas counted), wasn't it weird that he responded in the same way now? He didn't look up to Kurt, didn't stand in awe and envy of his talent – so why was he consumed, and by what?

Moreover, why was it starting to happen outside of the choir room, too? When he walked through the halls, he found himself scanning them unconsciously – until he happened to catch sight of Kurt and realized who he had been looking for. There was a strange satisfaction in glimpsing the boy by his locker, carefully adjusting a lock of his hair, or looking on with faint disdain as Finn and Rachel cooed over each other nearby. Will had been aware of the tension between Kurt and Finn, had realized that Kurt had feelings for the affable jock, and had fought with himself over whether to get involved, ultimately deciding to let it go. Now, though, that one-sided infatuation seemed to have passed, almost to his…was it relief?

Yes, relief. Relief that Kurt wasn't hanging his hopes on something that could never happen. Exactly.

But one jock problem turned into another. Karofsky, and to a lesser extent Azimio, began getting to Kurt in a way Will hadn't thought possible before. More than once Will rounded a corner to find Kurt sitting on the floor with his back against a row of lockers, his hair and clothes disheveled, and either Karofsky alone or the duo already halfway down the hall. It took a shocking amount of restraint not to touch Kurt in those instances – not even a friendly hand on the shoulder. Will was afraid to; there was something in Kurt's eyes, something old and tired, that would have kept the gesture from being that of a teacher reaching out to a student.

Because Kurt was hardly a student in terms of McKinley. He was practically an adult, smarter than several of his so-called educators.

And Kurt was aware of all that, and it clearly didn't help his feelings of isolation. Will had brought him into his office, intending to find out if there was anything he could do to help. It was that moment, when he held out a Dixie cup of water and Kurt took a moment to take it, his eyes so piercing on Will's face – _do you really think _you_ can help me?_ – that a tingling rush of heat had surged in his abdomen, so out of place in that context, and Will knew. Knew what had been going on with his straying and lingering eyes, his physical response to Kurt's voice. Knew abruptly and suddenly that he was right at the edge of some line, that Kurt was vulnerable in front of him, and that he was _not_ the person Kurt should be going to in this situation.

So he said something stupid about not letting the bullying get to him, asked a stupid question about the girls' and boys' groups in glee club, and let Kurt walk away disappointed. And then Will put his head down on his desk and let a shudder rip through his body.

Why? God, why was this happening? _How_ could it be happening, when Will knew very well that he was attracted to women? He had loved Terri, been so hot for her; and Emma, there was nothing boyish or masculine about her – she was as feminine as they came, and he was obviously attracted to her. Was it just that it had been so long since he'd been with anyone, frustrated beyond belief by the lack of a stable, intimate relationship? But if that was the case, why wasn't he fixated on another woman?

And it wasn't just Kurt's maleness – he was a student. Will's student, someone who looked to him for guidance and support. Will had never before been actually tempted to act on a student's crush – not the Pepper girl, certainly not Rachel – but now he was the one actually developing feelings. And it was _wrong_. Will dug his fingers into his curly hair and yanked for emphasis: _It. Was. Wrong_.

Nevertheless, he went home and, in bed alone later that night, ran feather-light touches along his half-hard shaft and was unable to block out vague images of slender hips, piercing eyes, and that knowing smirk until he was hard and aching and his hips were bucking into his now-tight grasp and he came with a stifled groan. Then he slammed a fist into his pillow and stripped the sheets off the bed, lying awake for most of the night on the bare mattress.

In the end, it was _Sue_ who went to bat for Kurt, who even gave up her position as principal to better act as Kurt's advocate. Through it all Will kept his distance, knowing he was failing Kurt, and in the end none of it made a difference because Kurt left, transferred to Dalton, and Will didn't know where to look in the halls anymore.

He couldn't talk to Emma – not that he would, not about this, but it might have helped a little to at least vent about his inability to help a student in need. But Emma was _married_ now, a fact that he still had trouble wrapping his mind around, but he tried anyway because that dull, chronic pain was better than the raw ache that accompanied thoughts about Kurt. He could barely watch his former student at Sectionals, afraid of what his reaction might be, but he saw enough to note that Kurt didn't look exactly happy swaying with the other Warblers.

The tie was a shock, but Will was frustrated with himself for the excitement that jumped in his stomach – after all, now he would be seeing Kurt again at Regionals for sure. He shook the hand of the handsome lead Warbler and was sincere in his congratulations, but definitely not out of good sportsmanship.

It was the ability to consider Kurt a _former_ student that Will used to justify thinking of him explicitly later that night. He bent an arm behind his head as a cushion and palmed his cock with his free hand, Kurt's eyes rising in his mind's eye. He pictured finding Kurt in the locker room showers long after school hours, water sluicing down his smooth, pale back and beading in his dark hair. Will couldn't hold onto a solid scenario – his arousal fragmented his thoughts – but as he pumped his cock he thought of pinning Kurt, of Kurt's hips grinding against his, of Kurt's full lips at his ear, breathing, _Yes, Mr. Schue, Will, oh fuck_–

"_Fuck_," Will ground out, answering his thoughts, actually bending around his cock as he came so that the ejaculate hit his chest.

"Fuck," he swore again, panting and seemingly glued to the mattress. After a moment he ran his hands through his hair, damp with sweat, but fell asleep before he could work up the energy to shower.

Maybe it was accepting this free license to fantasize that kept Will from dismissing the idea outright, but over the next couple of weeks he began entertaining the idea of dropping in on Kurt at Dalton. Not for any untoward purpose, no – just to check in on him. When he was feeling more clearheaded about the situation, Will kept remembering Kurt's seeming lack of enthusiasm among the Warblers, and he wondered how Kurt was really settling in at the private school.

Finally, as winter break approached, he worked up the nerve. He was impressed by the Dalton campus; like most private boarding schools, it was like a college campus in miniature: several old buildings, impeccably manicured lawns and pathways. He asked a passing student about the Warblers, and although the kid didn't know Kurt personally, he gave Will directions to the choir room.

Will gaped a little at the vaulted ceilings and spiral staircase in the building, but the tableau within the choir room captured his attention more than the architecture. Kurt and the dark-haired group leader from Sectionals were wrapping up a cozy rendition of "Baby It's Cold Outside," and Will recognized the look on Kurt's face as he sang to and was sung to by his partner. The happiness, the adoration – infatuation. Will's stomach sank as he listened to them end the song and their brief conversation afterward. Will hung back, then as the dark-haired kid left he acted as if he was just arriving, forcing himself to nod civilly at Kurt's apparent new love-interest.

"Mr. Schue!" Kurt's genuine happiness at seeing him mollified Will somewhat, and he reminded himself forcefully that he was here to check on Kurt, not get jealous of some teenager.

The suspicions of unhappiness that had been raised at Sectionals were more or less confirmed in Will's ensuing conversation with Kurt, who admitted that the students of Dalton weren't exactly encouraging of individuality. Not that it was really a surprise coming from a place that mandated the students wear identical blazers. Will remembered how he had felt about Kurt's clothes, how he had ultimately dismissed the mere idea of trying to repress Kurt's self-expression, and felt a brief flare of distaste toward Dalton and its administrators.

Kurt said he'd get used to it – but wasn't that something he should be afraid of? Nevertheless, Will bit his tongue, but couldn't help asking about Kurt's earlier singing partner.

"I'm in love with him," Kurt said, clearly striving to sound casual but betrayed by his breathlessness. As if that wasn't gutting enough, the kid was actually gay.

"I consider it progress," Kurt said, smiling wryly, and Will forced himself to smile back.

"I'm happy for you, Kurt," he said, aiming for sincerity, but it came out sounding exactly like his response to Emma when she told him she had gotten married in Vegas.

"Yeah," Kurt said quietly, half-laughing.

"Is it weird adjusting to a boarding school?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"I guess it's good preparation for college," Kurt answered. "I miss my dad, though. At least he has Carol. And Finn."

Kurt's eyes darkened slightly when he mentioned Finn's name, for reasons Will couldn't really imagine – lingering feelings, sadness at being separated from a friend and brother, or maybe worrying that his dad, stepmom, and stepbrother were crystallizing as a family without him.

"If it's anything like college, the food and dorm rooms must blow," Will said lightly. He didn't expect what came next.

"They're not that bad – have you ever seen a boarding school dorm room?"

"Ah – no."

"Here, I'll show you. I have a single," Kurt said, jumping to his feet. Before Will could think of some way to decline, Kurt was leading the way out of the choir room and across the small campus. A large stone building, four stories, served as campus housing.

"There's a smaller building with some rooms, but those are just for seniors," Kurt explained. "I'm on the third floor – freshmen in the basement rooms, common rooms and handicap-accessible rooms on the first, sophomores on the second, juniors on the third…you get it."

"Nice setup," Will commented, looking approvingly around the dorm building. It was the same dark wood and stone that composed the other buildings on campus, with the same spiral staircases.

"There's an elevator, but it's so old the stairs are honestly quicker," Kurt said, heading towards the aforementioned staircase. Some students passed them on their way up, a couple nodding at Kurt, but none looked overly curious about Will's presence in their living space. That was slightly comforting.

Kurt's room was at the end of the deserted hall.

"Most people are at the library or in the common rooms," Kurt said. "Finals are coming up."

"I'm not keeping you from studying, am I?" Will asked. "Some teacher I'd be."

"No, I could use a break," Kurt sighed, fishing a set of keys out of his messenger bag. "The work's definitely harder here, so I've been cracking the books for weeks. Anyway, here we go."

He unlocked the door and ushered Will in. It was about the size of the singles Will remembered from college, although nicer – clean white plaster walls with dark wood baseboards _and_ crown molding. Will didn't even have the latter in his apartment. A narrow twin bed (Will moved his eyes away quickly), dresser, and desk were the only furnishings, although Kurt had fortunately scored a small walk-in closet. A well-lit mirror and sink were in one corner, a basket of skin- and hair-care products nestled in an open cabinet under it.

"Not bad," Will said admiringly. "Much better than I was picturing."

"Perfectly serviceable," Kurt agreed, moving further into the room to set his bag down by his desk. The heavy wooden door swung shut on its own and Will turned quickly, startled.

"Oh – sorry," Kurt laughed. "They don't stay open on their own and I have yet to find a doorstop."

This was definitely the point where Will should suggest using a couple textbooks to prop it open, or something – he knew that, but he didn't. Instead he turned back to Kurt, who was stacking books and binders on his desk, and asked, "Kurt…what happened at McKinley? Why was leaving the only option?"

Kurt didn't look up, but his movements slowed; he straightened and re-straightened the pile on his desk with deliberate care as he cleared his throat.

"Clearly the administration wasn't going to help me," he said, his response sounding to Will's ears stiff and rehearsed. "Not even when…when someone threatened to kill me." Karofsky.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Will murmured. "But – even before that, something changed."

Kurt sighed and gave Will that look – the one that had nearly undone him in his office, the one that made him look twice his age despite his youthful features. Muscles in Will's abdomen, and lower, tensed, and he fought to keep his expression calm and impassive. After a moment of looking at each other, Will refusing to look away because he knew that it would be Kurt's cue to dismiss the question, Kurt softened.

"You know I was being…well, physically harassed," he said quietly. Will nodded, already not liking where this was going. "That day you talked to me in your office, something…else happened."

He fell silent, and, seeing him struggling, Will said, "Kurt, you can trust me."

"He kissed me," Kurt said, with dignity. His eyes looked deeply pained. "One of the jocks who was pushing me around. Turns out he gay and repressed and taking it out on me."

Kurt's tone was bitter; he stared hard at the floor. "Anyway, that was about one dimension too many to all the homophobia – and then there was the death threat, and no one was doing anything about it."

He glanced at Will briefly, but in that quick look the implication was there: _Not even you_.

"Kurt, I…" Will ran a hand through his hair, fighting for the right words. "I'm sorry I failed you. I should have done more, but I was. Well. I was afraid."

Admitting his guilt seemed to fire Kurt up; the younger man's eyes flashed and he strode closer to Will.

"_You_ were afraid? Of what? Gayness by proxy?"

Will held his hands up. "Kurt–"

"Professional fallout? Or just getting involved beyond lame affirmations – of having to actually fight for something?"

"Hey, come on–"

Kurt was nearly toe-to-toe with Will now, his face flushing – obviously he'd been bottling this up for a while.

"I was so disappointed when I left your office," Kurt said, quieter now. "I thought you of all people would do something – but that wound up being Coach Sylvester and she thought my name was literally 'Lady'."

"I'm sorry," Will said again, feeling helpless and defeated. Kurt scoffed softly and walked away a couple of steps, facing the window with its drawn shade.

"You're a helpful teacher, Mr. Schue, and you have good intentions, but you've always been kind of uptight." Kurt's anger had faded, and a familiar loftiness flooded his tone. "And you know, sometimes I feel sorry for you for that."

Will felt the incredulous look twisting his features, and before he knew it he was indignant. It was one thing for Kurt to be angry, or disappointed in him, but this – this condescension was over the line.

"Really," Will responded, sarcasm staining the word. Kurt glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised at the change in his former teacher's demeanor. "Well, thanks for your pity."

Kurt bristled, but Will continued.

"I know I was wrong, Kurt. But you have to admit that sometimes you make it hard for people to help you."

Will shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That was petty. I'm sorry. Truly. I think I should head out."

"Yeah," Kurt's voice was thin. "Maybe so."

Will began to turn for the door, but he glanced back at Kurt and saw his face; his arms were crossed tight across his blazer-clad chest, his expression was tight and miserable. And Will couldn't leave. Instead he crossed the room and stood with Kurt by the window and shade, put an arm around his tense shoulders, and decided not to say anything.

Suddenly Kurt turned under Will's arm and wrapped his arms around him, his next words half-muffled against Will's shoulder: "I hated it there because I was an outcast, but here, even though I'm wearing the uniform – I don't fit in here, either. Some change."

Will clasped Kurt to him wordlessly, rubbing his back, sick with himself for thrilling at the contact when Kurt was clearly upset. Kurt pulled back to look Will in the face; they were so close.

"Why were you afraid?" Kurt nearly whispered. Will stared hard into his eyes as if searching for something, then slowly, giving him time to move away, leaned in and pressed his lips to Kurt's. He held the kiss without moving his lips, for a few seconds, then broke it; despite the briefness of the contact he was already short of breath. Kurt's hands had tightened on his back, grasping the material of his shirt over his shoulder blades.

Before he could say anything – apologize, explain himself – Kurt's mouth was on his, moving like Will's hadn't. His own conscience's objections abruptly dissolved; Will drew in his breath in sharply through his nose, sucking on Kurt's top and then fuller bottom lip, the salt taste and rich smell of Kurt's cologne better than his fleeting and fragmented fantasies. Kurt's slight grunts as they held their bodies together were quickly heading to Will's groin; Kurt's hands had tangled in Will's hair, keeping him close, as if Will would have tried to extract himself at this point.

Will's hands slipped over Kurt's shoulders to the small of his back, then, as his crotch tightened, over Kurt's ass, pushing their hips together as his tongue slid into Kurt's mouth along with his moan. It was becoming harder to concentrate on staying upright, and Will started stepping forward, easing them both toward the bed. Kurt's legs hit the side of the mattress and he sat down, bouncing slightly, and Will adjusted him so that he was supine on the mattress. He carefully lowered his body over Kurt's, not intending to put his full weight on the slender male, but Kurt surprised him by wrapping his legs around his hips and crushing his lips to Will's again.

"God," Will groaned against Kurt's soft mouth; Kurt took Will's bottom lip briefly between his teeth, then angled his head so he could kiss Will's neck. Will ground his pelvis hard into Kurt's abdomen before he checked himself, but Kurt pushed back.

"You're not going to break me," Kurt murmured, nuzzling Will's throat, and with another moan Will rubbed his hips into Kurt's. He alternately smoothed and bunched the fabric of Kurt's blazer, then finally undid the buttons; it felt too much like a barrier at this point. Kurt half-sat up to help Will pull it off, then loosened his tie and cast it onto the floor with the discarded blazer. Will followed suit with his own tie, sighing as he lowered himself onto Kurt again and felt the increased heat of his skin beneath their button-down shirts.

Kurt moaned almost rhythmically into Will's mouth as they shifted together, his hands trailing across Will's back, his thumbs briefly hooking into the waistband of Will's slacks. That was enough to make Will's hips erratically jerk twice against Kurt, and he paused to suck in a couple of breaths to slow down.

Beneath him, Kurt's eyes were slightly glazed, his hair mussed, lips red and wet. Will groaned and buried his face against Kurt's neck, nibbling and sucking gently, paying attention to the crook where neck meant shoulder.

"Ah," Kurt panted, straining up against Will, "Ah, yes, more…"

"Jesus, Kurt," Will said, voice strained; he began undoing the buttons on Kurt's shirt. He slid his palms over the sleek skin he uncovered, lowering his mouth to an already stiff nipple. He teased it into a hard pebble with swirls of his tongue, then lavished his attention on its twin; all the while Kurt writhed and gasped beneath him. Will sat up and unbuttoned his own shirt enough to be able to pull it over his head, then hesitated with his hands at the waist of Kurt's pants.

"Do it," Kurt breathed, eyes half-lidded. "God, don't stop now."

Will undid the belt buckle and fly and slid Kurt's pants down over his slender hips; the younger man's erection was already pushing against his underwear. Kurt kicked the pants the rest of the way off – both of them had already toed off their shoes – and pulled Will down onto him again, almost frantically rubbing his nearly naked body against Will. The heat and the swell of Kurt's groin almost blanked out Will's mind; with one hand he clumsily undid his own fly, not sure where this was going to take him but aching for them to be skin-to-skin.

He wriggled out of his slacks, and they joined the mixed pile of their clothing next to the bed. But now that they were both down to almost nothing, Will hesitated, pausing with his body over Kurt's.

"What?" Kurt said, sounding dazed and increasingly frustrated; his hands roamed over Will's stomach. "What's wrong?"

_I'm in love with him_, the memory of Kurt's voice from a little over an hour ago was like a punch to Will's gut; was Kurt imagining rolling around with that dark-haired kid from before? To banish the thought, Will crushed his lips against Kurt's, nearly crying out when Kurt wrapped his legs around him again, the sensation so much stronger now that they were almost nude. Different from being with a woman, strange in its unfamiliarity, but in its way just as good. Kurt's tongue slid against his, their moans simultaneous and muffled by the kiss, Will's conscience conveniently on another planet and too far away to intrude.

"Mr. Schue? Will?" Kurt pressed his hands against Will's chest, pausing the kiss. His voice was breathless and slightly shy. "Let me – I want to do something for you."

Will let Kurt turn them over so that Will's back was against the blankets. Any question of what Kurt intended was banished almost immediately when he began kissing a trail down Will's chest and stomach.

"Kurt," Will began, his voice almost comically strained, but at the boy's searing glance Will's eyes fluttered closed and his fingers clenched the blanket. Kurt carefully eased Will's boxers over his erection and his hips – Will arching up to help him slide them down. Will was afraid to look, certain that the visual would be too much and it would be over before Kurt ever had his mouth on him – and _God_, he wanted Kurt's mouth on him. His breath teased Will's cock, practically quivering from arousal, then his tongue darted out to cautiously lick around the head.

Will half-moaned, half-yelled something unintelligible and, emboldened, Kurt trailed his tongue up and down the shaft. When he took the head entirely in his mouth, fingers wrapping around the length, Will shuddered, biting his lip so hard he almost broke the skin in his attempt to keep from thrusting hard into Kurt's mouth.

"Ohh…" he gritted his teeth as Kurt bobbed cautiously further down, suctioning tighter with his lips. A few minutes of his ministrations had Will almost undone. "Ah, Kurt…fuck, I'm…"

Kurt lifted his head from Will's cock, but continued pumping it, experimenting with a tighter grip than he'd previously held, Will's hips jerked under his touch, unrestrained, until he came with a strangled cry, come spurting over his stomach. Breathing hard, he opened his previously-clenched eyes and looked at Kurt, who looked thrilled and still heavily turned on. Will pulled him up and kissed him; Kurt wriggled his hips against Will's now-slick stomach – at some point he had taken off his underwear. Will gripped Kurt's bare ass, encouraging him to push harder. Will flipped them back over and ground back against Kurt, his own taste fading on Kurt's lips under continual kisses. Will turned his attention back to Kurt's neck, licking, sucking, biting gently when Kurt thrust particularly hard.

"Oh God, oh God, _fuck_!" Kurt bit his lip, eyes clamping shut, clearly about over the edge.

"Yes," Will grunted, meeting Kurt's thrusts, "come on, fuck yes…"

Kurt convulsed beneath him, mouth open but no sound emitting except for a thin gasp as he relaxed. They both breathed hard, out of sync, the raspy sound filling the small room. Will was panting into the crook of Kurt's neck; he rolled over onto his back, nearly half-off the narrow bed.

"Oh, God," Kurt said, his voice small. Will craned his neck to look at him; Kurt's eyes were wide and staring at the ceiling, his expression stricken. "What – what did we do?"

"I…" Will still hadn't caught his breath. "It was…"

"What? A mistake?" Kurt's voice was high and distressed; he shifted away from Will, angling himself to cover his exposed body.

"No! I – maybe. I was going to say impulsive," Will said lamely. He edged away from Kurt as well, sitting on the edge of the bed and dropping his head in his hands. "I'm…confused."

He twisted so that he could see Kurt; the boy had one hand over his eyes, his mouth working.

"It was a mistake," Kurt said, his voice surprisingly calm and firm. "You caught me at kind of a…vulnerable moment. That's all."

The gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in. Will wasn't technically Kurt's teacher anymore, but he was still an adult and Kurt was a minor.

"Kurt, I didn't mean – I wasn't trying to–"

"Take advantage?" Kurt removed his hand and looked at Will. "Yes, I know. I'm messed up, trying to figure out where I'm supposed to be. You're – I don't know, divorced, confused like you said…"

He sat up. "Can you look away, please?"

The request almost seemed absurd, given what had just transpired, but Will obediently looked toward the window. Kurt got up, the bed bobbing up without his added weight, and Will heard the sink running. A moment later a damp, slightly soapy towel landed across Will's knees.

"Oh, uh, thanks." Will wiped off the sticky residue on his stomach. He heard Kurt rummaging from the direction of the closet, and when he emerged he was dressed again in pants and a shirt, although without the blazer and tie. Without looking at Will, he moved to his sink and mirror to begin rearranging his mussed hair, and Will took the opportunity to get dressed himself. After tucking in his shirt, he picked up Kurt's rumpled blazer and hung it over the back of the desk chair along with the discarded red tie.

He looked at Kurt's reflection in the mirror, unable to think of a single thing to say that wouldn't make things worse. But when Kurt turned around, his expression was composed.

"Listen," he said briskly, taking the towel from Will's limp grasp. "That was unexpected, and nothing like it can ever happen again. But I'm not going to tell anyone."

Will fiercely suppressed the hope that flared at this statement; he didn't deserve to be let of the hook like that. "But you'd be right to–"

"Mr. Schue, I'm a teenager," Kurt said crisply. "You're an attractive teacher and, well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it to happen once it started. That doesn't mean it wasn't a mistake, but it wasn't just your mistake."

Will looked at Kurt, then spread his hands.

"If that's how you want to see it, but Kurt, it wasn't right. I'm–"

"Which is why it won't happen again," Kurt repeated, cutting him off. "Let's just be adults about this and agree to forget about it."

Will struggled with himself, his morals competing with his desire to let things lie. If Kurt was really willing to move past it…

Will closed his eyes as he came to his decision. In his gut he felt it was the wrong one, but he opened his eyes and looked Kurt in the face.

"All right," he agreed. "We'll forget about it."

Kurt nodded, inhaling deeply. "Good. It's settled then." He looked away.

"I, um. I hope things work out, that you settle in," Will said, taking his cue to head for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob and glanced back at Kurt.

"Kurt…thank you – but you know, you're not an adult." No matter how hard Will had tried to convince himself he was.

Kurt half-smiled, his eyes weary. "No. But I might as well be. Take care, Mr. Schue. I expect I'll see you at Regionals."

Will nodded and left, the scent of Kurt still lingering on his clothes. Devotion to his students: he laughed bitterly as he started his car. As if Kurt, no matter where he went, could ever truly be anything else to him.

* * *

End Notes: I feel like I cut this off a little abruptly, but the sucker gave me trouble as soon as I tried for anything resembling plot development - this was unabashedly just an excuse to write some porn. Hopefully they didn't seem OOC towards the end, and I did try to make it plausible for Kurt to just let this one go. (But seriously, can someone just get this poor kid a normal kiss?)

If you want to drop me a review, I'll be most appreciative, but if not thanks for reading anyway! I hope everyone has a nice holiday.


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